


The Golden Deer and Their Golden Teacher

by mocinno



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Death, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teaching, War, no romance just wholesome, “Teacher student relationship” isn’t romantic BTW just want to make that clear!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-11 12:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20153302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mocinno/pseuds/mocinno
Summary: Byleth was a mercenary, a warrior, in many ways a mystery. But most of all, she was a teacher.A loose play-by-play of teacher Byleth throughout the Golden Deer route. Full spoilers. Now with part 2!





	1. Chapter 1

Byleth simply stared when her father told her the news. Her, a teacher? At a church she knew nothing about? While he was dragged off by Rhea for some knightly mission, she was sat down with her "fellow" teachers, Manuela and Hanneman. She received a brief lecture on the goings-on of the monastery. Students from the three corners of Fódlan were gathered at the military academy to become the next generation's best and brightest. They gave her the grace of choosing which class to teach. 

"But before you choose, I recommend you talk to the house leaders first. Get an idea of each class, you know?" Manuela winked at her and Byleth nodded absentmindedly. The three kids she'd rescued from bandits were actually the three heirs of the continent's most prominent lands. It felt right out of some crappy two-cent novel.

She left Rhea's chamber, with a bow to the archbishop, and set off to explore the school. 

The first familiar face was Edelgard's. She was standing in the large hallway before the chapel bridge, her eyes wandering to and from the passing students. The girl was calm, astute, and Byleth could tell she would be a dependable leader when she grew up. 

Byleth had never been good with talking to people, though she was good at _reading_ them, a skill she picked up after hiding behind her father for years. From that, she could see a dark glint in Edelgard's eyes as she looked around the courtyard; a face of stony patience, waiting for what was beyond the castle walls. Even in the way she spoke, she had restraint with her volume and tone. The girl had something planned, and something _big._ She spoke kindly of her classmates, mostly, and sent Byleth off with a formal nod.

Next was Dimitri, standing in the grass outside the house classrooms. He looked just as he had the night with the bandits-- friendly and kind, with a storm in his mind. He didn't try to hide his darkness like Edelgard seemed to; heck, he even introduced himself by mentioning it. As he introduced his classmates, many of whom were childhood friends, he seemed to light up. Byleth made a mental note of his and his class' closeness. He was genuine enough, with courteous manners and a firm handshake goodbye. She could tell he would be a just ruler in due time.

She found Claude leaning lazily against a pillar outside the Golden Deer classroom, twirling the braid in his hair, his eyes occasionally darting inside the room. Where the other two were composed and formal, Claude was tricky and casual. He spoke like an outsider, like he was merely an observer to Fódlan. He framed his house in the same way: a bit of a mess, a bit disorganized, but there when it mattered. Byleth, frankly, could tell little else. He kept his secrets well guarded, and aside from the minimal facts he gave her, much of the rest was shrouded in mystery.

The Emperor-to-be, the King-to-be, or the Duke-to-be. 

Byleth looked at the scattered notes she'd made as she'd spoken to the students and the house leaders. 

"I'd like to teach the Golden Deer."

Manuela applauded slightly. "Wonderful! Then I'll take the Black Eagles..." 

"And I'll lead the Blue Lions. I'm glad we've all come to an agreement. Now, Professor, you should go and introduce yourself." 

Next to Byleth, Sothis rolled her eyes. "I can tell what you're thinking, you know. 'Me? Introduce myself?' Your face is all too easy to read; you truly must hide it before the students proper. They won't like a teacher who doesn't like them, you know."

* * *

Byleth quickly discovered something. 

The Golden Deer students were _weird._

She knew this, already, from what glimpses she had seen of the students, before picking her house. But the Deer truly were _weird._

After the mock battle, she confronted Lorenz on the plethora of complaints she'd received. Of course, Claude had warned her that Lorenz was a notoriously unsuccessful flirt, but the number of girls complaining was staggering. He prattled on about finding the right partner based on his nobility before sauntering off. She would have to smack him over the head later, she knew.

Ignatz was a sweet child, but he kept running whenever he saw her come near. He was trying to hide his sketchbook, probably, but it was so large, and he was so small that he utterly failed at his attempts. Once he'd ran for a third time she swore to sneak up on him and talk about it, calmly.

When Byleth tried to approach Marianne at the stables, to praise her for her quick healing, the girl had tucked her head into the horse's fur until Byleth left. So much for friendly teacher-student conversations.

And she hadn't even taught a lesson yet. Only one battle and Byleth already felt the house's seams falling apart. Sothis floated beside her, arms behind her head. "You chose this house. You have no right to bemoan their failings."

Byleth blew a raspberry.

Byleth pushed open the doors of the Golden Deer Classroom. Most students were already inside. A glance at her watch told her the bell would ring soon.

She walked to the front of the room and looked over her desk. There was a small stack of books, a pile of papers, a cup with more quill pens than she'd ever need, and a small rod for pointing at the blackboard. The bell rang, and she turned to the class, rod in hand. The stick extended, and she nearly swung it into a helpless Raphael. 

He looked like a sad puppy, the pointer between his eyes and food crumbs still on his mouth. "Good morning, Professor, sorry I'm late."

After a moment of confused silence, she waved her hand for him to sit down. 

"Okay, class. I'm your new teacher, Byleth, though you may call me Professor or Teacher. Since this is the first day of class--"

"We should get to know each other better!" Hilda yelled from her seat, twirling a ponytail. "Or we can _not_ read and instead--"

"No." Byleth leaned against her desk and reached behind her for one of her books. "We'll begin with a brief test. It's not worth any points, mind, I only want to know how much you've already learned." She flipped through the book, reading terms at random and watching as hands went up or down. 

They weren't good. No, not at all. They weren't _bad_ either, though, and she was _sort of_ impressed by Leonie and Lysithea, at least. Lorenz knew his stuff, but he also went into tangents about nobility every other answer somehow. Hilda as well was knowledgeable enough, but only when Byleth smacked her desk with her pointer and forced her to answer.

After their trivia session, she took them out to the training grounds. She instructed each of them to pick up their best weapons. "Fighting, so soon?" Sothis hummed as she floated around Byleth.

"Now, we're going to hold a class duel." The students looked at her in shock, and Ignatz nearly dropped his bow. "Today. I've gauged your knowledge, and now I want to know your practical skill. You'll be using these weapons. You cannot change your choice!" She clapped her hands. "You have ten practice minutes."

Byleth sat, gratefully, on the edge of the training ground steps and watched her students, scribbling notes. Occasionally she would waltz between the swords and arrows to get a closer look. She was betting on her killer stare to inspire them to work harder. Ignatz had good aim, even far away, but he needed to work on his draw strength. Hilda only really tried when Byleth was right next to her, but when she tried, she destroyed. Raphael swung his fists too aggressively and needed to work on timing; Leonie was skilled at parrying with a lance, even when close to her opponent. Marianne always looked ready to cry when she used Nosferatu, squeezing her eyes shut and ruining her aim. Lysithea could score a mean hit on anyone, but even the slight whap of Lorenz's training lance was enough to make her squeal. Claude knew how to read his foe, timing his jumps away from Hilda with the swing of her axe, but Byleth wondered how much of it was his skill and how much was his prior experience fighting her.

She looked at her notes, pleased. "Alright, Golden Deer! We'll take a short break and then begin." With only a ten-minute session, she had gotten a good glance at everyone's fighting styles and had made her bracket with their strengths and weaknesses in mind.

First was Marianne and Raphael. Marianne was a weak fighter, but if she could understand the strength of Nosferatu, she'd be able to outlast Raphael's haphazard fists. Byleth's eyes darted across the field between the two, as Marianne squeaked with her magic and Raphael jumped at her. Raphael won, giving Marianne a pat on the back to compensate as she gripped her arm in shame. 

Leonie and Lorenz wasn't much of a contest. Byleth knew Lorenz would lose, and gave him an apologetic smile when he did. He needed, more than a victory, a knock to his ego from a commoner.

Lysitha and Igantz stayed far, far away from each other during their fight, circling the outer edge of the training hall. Byleth deftly dodged an arrow as it whizzed past, scribbling viciously into her notebook. After a minute of dodges and jumps, Ignatz landed a successful hit on Lysithea, and the fight was sealed from there. Lysithea only huffed at Ignatz' friendly handshake.

Claude began to step forward, but she held her hand out to stop him. "Hold, Claude. Your opponent won't be Hilda."

For a moment his charming smile broke to reveal genuine confusion. He scanned the room for a moment. "Teach. She's the only one left, unless we're doing repeats."

"You're right." She glanced at Hilda, who had her chin resting on her palms in boredom. "Hilda, I know you'll simply throw your match, so you won't be fighting. We'll talk later." The girl's eyebrows shot up. Claude sent her a confused look to which she shrugged. "Claude, your opponent will be me."

"Huh? You, uh, you serious Teach?" Byleth picked up a training sword of her own and cut through the air casually. 

"Yes. I'm not just playing favorites, by the way," she retorted to Claude's smarmy grin, "I chose these match-ups very particularly with what I know about you kids so far."

"'Kids'? Aren't you like a year older at most?" He asked incredulously as he twirled an arrow. 

"Well," she stuttered, staring at her sword before shaking her head. "No matter. I won't hold back on you simply because you're my student, by the way." He nodded. The match began.

It was interesting, to say the least. He was hesitant at first, clearly watching and waiting to learn her patterns-- or at least, he was trying to. Byleth sliced quickly, giving him no time to think. He eventually managed to get a shot in, though Byleth dodged it with ease. She forced him to his knees, keeping her sword a good distance from his neck. Enough to scare him but not enough to pose any danger.

She watched him carefully. He was grinning, still, even with his hands above his head in innocence. "Ah, you won Teach." Before she could respond, there was a thunk, and behind her, an arrow fell to the ground. 

Hilda groaned.

Claude cursed. "Are you kidding me? Just a couple inches off and I could've-- ugh. Fine, Teach, this time you really won." She sheathed her sword and pulled him up. "And I was so close to being the dark horse, too."

"You were still smiling, though," Byleth said absentmindedly, more focused on scribbling her notes, "and that made it obvious something was still happening."

He leaned over her shoulder, sneaking a peak of her book. "'Claude: clever but inaccurate'? What's _that_ mean, Teach?"

"It means," she snapped, tucking the notebook into her cloak, "you're too nosy. That's all for today's class. You're dismissed." 

As the students filed out of the training grounds, Sothis appeared with a satisfied smile. "You taught them well. I am sure this lesson will be one they are to remember."

Byleth shrugged. "I only did what I know. I found their weaknesses and then exploited them."

"You act humble, yet I feel in your heart your pride."

* * *

So, sure, the Golden Deer were weird. That statement had yet to change.

She'd found Claude experimenting with poisons on _multiple_ occasions, even openly discussing it before the Battle of Eagle and Lion, to the scornful glares of Dimitri and Edelgard. Hilda came to her every other day begging to sit on the sidelines of each battle, and each time Byleth would have to sit through a five-minute explanation before giving Hilda her consistent "no." Lysithea claimed not to be afraid of ghosts and yet insisted Byleth follow her to the dining hall in the_ middle of the night_ just to chat. She happened to pass by Raphael staring at a bird one day, shouting "tweet" and "chirp" until he finally walked off, muttering about Marianne and talking to birds.

Yes, her class was weird. Quite weird. But it was her class, as she soon learned, and she would do anything for them.

Ignatz had improved steadily on his draw strength. It still wasn't great, but his skill with swords was improving as well, so he always had something to fall back on when his bow wasn't enough. Claude had picked up the axe after fierce insistence from Byleth; she could see in his movements that he was suited for it, even if he argued otherwise. He and Hilda became the team's axe masters. With Marianne's help, Lorenz slowly mastered the care of horses. They both had a natural skill for it, but Marianne's ability to understand animals was truly something else. They didn't have a single bad day of stable care. 

Even though she moaned and groaned, Lysithea eventually awakened her skill in swords. She was still physically weak, sure, and far better suited to magic. That was undeniable. But with weekly practice, her sword abilities had heightened to the point that she could enchant her swords _with_ her magic. Byleth had made sure she could use swords in case her magic ran out in a pinch.

She didn't like the idea of a helpless Lysithea, surrounded by enemies and out of spells-- a fear she didn't realize she had until she saw Lysithea be cut down by an unexpected axe swing. With Sothis' help, Lysithea was fine, but the picture of the frail girl with an axe through her chest was too much for Byleth.

Sothis was getting attached to the children as well. Not that the tiny ethereal being would ever admit it, of course. 

Out of battle as well, Byleth was getting to know her students better and better. She became a dining hall visitor as frequent as Raphael, eager to catch the snippets of conversation each meal would bring. Cooking with Claude was always her favorite event, since he'd throw in anecdotes about how poisonous each herb could be, and then proceed to try to _use_ said poisons before Byleth stopped him. 

Byleth began to notice that Lorenz was a better kid than she thought; once you got past his flirtatious habits, stuffy attitude, and horrible haircut, he was kind and had an astute sense of duty to the common man. He would be an excellent leader... once he got over himself. And Marianne, once she opened up a bit, was such a gentle soul. Sothis insisted on having tea with her every time they crossed paths until Byleth would run out of tea, and she would then demand more. It was a vicious cycle.

Byleth woke late one Sunday, to the yammering of Sothis. "Wake up. Wake up! You have so little free time in this place, and you plan to spend it sleeping?!" 

"Maybe so," Byleth mumbled, pushing herself out of bed. After getting dressed, she looked to her calendar. "Actually," she said to herself, pressing a finger to the date, "our mission is coming up soon, at Remire Village. Perhaps we should simply rest. The students need rejuvenation." She pressed a hand to her mouth in a yawn.

"But surely a walk around the monastery will be more beneficial." Sothis floated, upside down, in front of Byleth's head. The girl had taken a liking to odd poses, for some reason. "You can share a meal, see your students, perhaps return part of this lost item mountain..." 

"Geez, Sothis." Byleth raised an eyebrow at the deity. "It's almost like you _miss_ the kids."

"I simply wish to use our time in a productive manner. There is no point to waste time resting, and the monastery is a beautiful place." Sothis' voice was even, though her eyebrows were knit in irritation. "Both you and the children become more motivated around each other. It is only natural."

* * *

She felt like death. A walking corpse.

Jeralt, dead. Sothis, gone. Good as dead, really.

Byleth ran a hand through her mint green hair. It wasn't the same. Life wasn't the same.

She had no tears for Sothis. 

There was no time for tears.

Rhea had yet another mission for her house. She knew she should be preparing, motivating the students for another week to begin, but she hadn't the energy.

She laid in bed for the day. Not awake, but not asleep either, in a state of depressed existence. When she opened her eyes once more the sun had begun to set in the sky.

She was still alone, but the room was not empty. 

Several small vases filled with flowers lined her window shelf. On the floor were several boxes, each with their own wrappings. A, frankly, monstrous tray had taken up most of her desk space, every inch covered with food. The remaining desk was covered with envelopes.

Byleth managed to push herself out of bed. Her eyesight blurred, and she hesitated before moving to her desk and sitting. She looked at the meal in front of her with tired eyes. There was pheasant, salad, hot pot, steak, fruit cake, everything she could imagine. She managed a smile, to herself, at the tray.

Then, she put her head in her hands and cried.

When she walked into the Golden Deer Classroom the next day, she was surprised by their silence. There wasn't a peep out of them. No call-outs, no sporadic sleeping students, nothing. To be fair, she made little noise either, giving them book-work and herself time to grade papers she'd neglected.

After thirty minutes of diligent silence, she set down her parchment and sighed, loud enough for the entire class to hear. "Kids," she began, and then paused. "Students. Thank you for the gifts yesterday. I really do appreciate it. But this 'gift' of silence is too much. You can talk."

Somehow, they all simultaneously exchanged glances, communicating in some strange teenager language Byleth didn't hope to understand.

Claude spoke first. "I think I speak for all of us when I say, you look awful, Teach. We want you to get better."

"I understand that," Byleth observed dryly, "but this total silence is creeping me out."

They stared at each other, again, and Claude became their voice, again. "Only if you'll sleep properly tonight."

She raised an eyebrow and pointed her quill pen at him. "And you've been watching my room at night, Mr. von Riegan?" He made a strangled sound in his throat, and she laughed. Making Claude lose his cool was quickly becoming a hobby of hers. "Fine, fine. I sleep, you kids talk. Deal?"

"Deal!" The room burst into chatter, and Byleth could feel a great weight lifted from her shoulders.

"So, Professor," Raphael began as he walked to her desk, "how was the food?"

"That was yours, Raphael? It was amazing." She continued grading her papers as she conversed, trying to hide her smile as best she could.

"Aw, thanks. I like to eat a lot, so I learned how to cook from that. Oh, but the sweets were all Lysithea." He leaned down and whispered. "She's amazing at baking sweets, but she'll never say it. Says cakes are too 'childish.'"

"Duly noted. Now go back to work," she added, after Raphael continued to stand at her desk beaming.

She scribbled a small note on the essay she was grading. _Nice job!_

* * *

"What...?" Byleth had no words for the girl in front of her, just a stunned gasp.

Edelgard was the Flame Emperor.

Like she'd been hit, Byleth recalled her first impressions of Edelgard, all those months ago. _A face of stony patience, waiting for what was beyond the castle walls... The girl had something planned, and something big._

So _this_ was that something.

She vanished quickly, fellow student Hubert warping them away. 

Byleth felt lost. Everything seemed to smudge and blur. Edelgard- no, _Emperor_ Edelgard was marching on Garreg Mach in mere weeks time? The only thing clear in her mind was Seteth's advice: stay calm, for the students.

For the students. Right. She had to steel her nerves, for them, at least.

Her usual rounds around the monastery were more solemn than usual. She did, however, have a bountiful flower harvest in the school gardens, and she did her damnedest to gift them with her brightest smile. Lorenz worried about House Gloucester's alliance with the Empire, and she gave him a bouquet of roses in response; he gave her a bitter smile, but it was a smile, nonetheless. She reassured a doubtful Ignatz that as long as she was around, he and the monastery would be safe.

She would prepare the students as much as possible, and then, well. Then she would do all she could to keep them safe and alive.

The school week was rough. Everyone was distracted, distraught, or both. She tried to be more gentle with her drills, aware that too much pressure would push some of them off the edge. The first day of class, she opened with a simple statement. "My Golden Deer, understand this. If I still live, if my pulse still beats, this monastery will not fall. We will not fall. You will all be safe, as long as I am here. I can guarantee it." It seemed to assuage most of their worries, and she kept up positive morale as much as she could throughout the remaining month.

The battle was, well, not what she expected.

It was horrifying. Fire, everywhere. Terribly powerful enemies, unlike anything the students had faced before. A crashing wall of beasts tearing through forests. At the heart of the chaos stood Edelgard, in the Flame Emperor's armor.

Byleth had to cut her down. She had to-- there was no negotiation, no time for any other options. Only her sword and Edelgard's axe.

And when she did? When the Sword of the Creator at last cut deep enough to force Edelgard's retreat?

It was only the beginning. Edelgard warped away, again, _coward_. There was a tug in Byleth's gut, to go to Rhea. She warned Claude and ran.

She found her, standing in the grass outside the monastery, on a cliff overlooking the town.

Byleth looked over the cliff in horror. Thousands and thousands of troops marched on Garreg Mach. It wouldn't possibly stand. Her hand flew to her sword, prepared to jump into the fight, but Rhea stopped her.

She couldn't believe her ears. The monastery, entrusted to _her_? Nevertheless, she sheathed her sword. She watched, in fear and amazement, as Rhea suddenly transformed into a massive white dragon. It seemed familiar, somehow, but she ignored the feeling and watched as Rhea soared downwards, crashing into the Imperial forces.

Monsters latched onto the dragon suddenly, dragging her down. Byleth threw out the Sword of the Creator, its glowing edge whipping into one of the beasts. Rhea threw them off, and then flew up to the cliff once more. She looked ahead, and in a rumbling voice, asked, "Why are you here?"

Byleth turned behind her and saw a familiar face. The same man who'd killed Kronya.

Her gut twisted. He had already been the death of Sothis. What would he do next?

He pulled at the air, summoning a purple orb of burning energy, and flung it at Byleth.

No time to dodge, no time to think--

She angled the Sword of the Creator to block the magic. It hit her with incredible force, sending her flying, flying--

She was flung off the cliff. There was nothing below her.

She screamed.

_You will all be safe, as long as I am here._

_I'm sorry. I've done all I can._

* * *

Byleth opened her eyes.

The familiar voice.

Sothis.

Her heart hurt. She missed the chastising girl.

She looked around her. There was a man, a villager, looking at her with an odd face. "You're alive!"

Well, duh. Her face, her arms, legs, everything was intact. Nothing hurt, though her neck felt like she'd slept at the wrong angle.

Slept. How long had she been asleep? The man was speaking to himself, and he vaguely mentioned the monastery. Abandoned. Five years since...?

He gave her an incredulous look when she asked for the year. 1185.

The Millennium Festival. The words rattled in her skull. With energy she didn't know she had, Byleth ran. The villager called vaguely to her, something about bandits.

"My students are waiting! I don't give a damn about bandits!"

Byleth peeked her head around the staircase. The Goddess Tower had been the first place she visited, if only because the five-year promise was made the night of the ball. Someone was there already, looking out one of the floor length windows.

Claude.

Her heart flew to her throat when she realized. He had grown, so much. He was taller, for one, with new armor suiting him well. But his heart was just the same-- that of a schemer, and apparently one who cared far too much about his teacher.

She'd had no words, then. He was beautiful, frankly, in the sunlight, in the "new dawn" as he called it. To see him alive and well, after she'd fallen into a canyon for five years, after waging a war that was still going on... And then to be tested by the little brat against some bandits. Really. It was an awful way to greet an old friend, and she made sure to tell him so in the lull of the battle.

"Oh, come on, Teach! Surely you missed your little Deer!" He shouted from atop his wyvern- his wyvern!- and shot the enemy stumbling away from her. The last she'd seen Claude he was struggling to mount even the tamest dragon, and now he was pulling his wyvern here and there like it was nothing.

She glared above her. "Then where are the rest of our damned Deer--?"

With imperfect timing, the galloping of horses interrupted her. She heard voices, voices she thought long gone. "I must apologize for being late, but-" 

"Lorenz, I think you should be quiet right now. We don't want to be spotted by the bandits."

"Oh, of course."

Claude smiled at her as he landed. "Told ya they'd be here. They're just late." A bandit hollered behind Claude. He turned his bow, but the man was cut down by the powerful slam of an axe.

"Heya, Claude. And Professor!" Hilda winked and set her axe casually on her shoulder. "Leonie and I can deal with the bandits over here, if you want to rout the center."

Byleth nodded. It was as though not a day had passed. After cutting down another bandit, she pressed a hand to her chin. "Now, if only we had a force to the North, then we could do a pincer maneuver, and..."

As if by fate, she turned northward and saw three familiar figures pushing through the trees and rubble. Leaning against her sword, she couldn't help but laugh. "You kids...!" She pressed a hand to her face, obscuring her eyes and her tears. "Let's rip 'em apart, and then we can talk."

The doppleganger's sudden escape was a surprise, but luckily Lysithea had been positioned at just the right spot to stop him in his tracks.

The walk back into the castle itself was pleasant. Each student was bursting with conversation, not only for Byleth, but with each other. It seemed they all parted after the Battle of Garreg Mach to go their own ways. Most of them went back to their families, to support them during the war. Claude had gone the extra mile and became the leader of the Alliance. None of them had given up on Byleth coming back, a fact that rattled her to the bone. Not a single soul there, not even the pessimist Marianne or realist Lorenz, thought for even a second that Byleth wouldn't come back.

These damned kids.

The Knights of Seiros were at Garreg Mach as well. (As for where they'd been during the battle, Byleth didn't bother asking). With Hilda's silver tongue, Claude's honeyed words, and Byleth's existence, the Deer roped the Knights into doing their bidding. The Knights got to work repairing the monastery with what they had.

Even though she had awoken at dawn, night came quickly. It was, she assumed, exhaustion from the sudden exertion after five years of dormancy. No thanks to Claude and his little scrape, of course.

She rolled in her bed. It was terribly dusty, even after she'd waved the sheets around like trying to beat the devil out of them. Still, it had been her home for a whole year. It was certainly more of a home than the temporary hideaways she and her father had moved to and from.

She missed them, she realized. Byleth had missed her students terribly.

The Golden Deer were weirdos. Absolute weirdos. It was a statement she would stand by the rest of her life.

Byleth had been dead, or at least, out of commission, for five years. Five damn years! And yet, on the day of the Millennium Festival, they all were there at Garreg Mach that day. Every one of her weird students arrived at Garreg Mach, just in time to assist in the foolish bandit battle Claude had roped her into. It was only hours ago, but she still couldn't believe it.

Who the hell would believe in a casual promise made five years ago, half in jest, when there was a ballroom dance and a war and everything in between? No one but her weird Golden Deer. 

"Damn weirdos," she whispered to the darkness of her room. "You kids are going to be the death of me with your nonsense. The death of me, I say..." She mumbled into her pillow and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

A young girl floated casually above Byleth's head. "You're utterly hopeless. If you keep up such blatant lies this war has been lost before it's began!"

Byleth swore the next day that someone was talking to her in her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, this is now part 1 of a two-chapter fic! I made some minor edits and bumped the rating to T.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly graphic violence descriptions. Not enough for the archive warning (I don't think), but be aware.

Byleth yawned as she ordered her food and yawned as she sat down. She had become a perpetual yawner, apparently. 

"Professor, what do you think of Claude's plan?" Hilda asked with a wink. "I think it sounds like a lot of work. The Alliance is a mess right now, the Kingdom's all but fallen apart, and without any allies we'll have no chance against the Empire."

Byleth took a long gulp of her soup. "I think," Byleth imagined the sight of Rhea as she was thrown into the canyon, "I want to find Rhea. That's what I'm here for." She still didn't trust Rhea, never fully had; Rhea, however, was the key to everything. Only Rhea held the answers, of why the strange man was attacking the monastery, of why Jeralt's daughter had no heartbeat. "I don't really care about what happens in between," she admitted, glancing to the floor. 

She was never one for politics. What little she had understood of the Alliance was because of her own student's quips and anecdotes, and she understood even less after her hibernation. House Gloucester sided with the Empire? It wasn't her problem. The fact that he was the father of one of her _ students _ , however, _ that _ bothered her, if only because the issue bothered Lorenz.

"But I care about you kids." Hilda and Claude exchanged knowing glances. "So I'll help you, Claude. At least, until we save Rhea."

"That's the spirit, Professor!" Hilda's voice was noticeably happier at the news. “Actually,” she pondered, pressing a finger to her chin, “can we still call you that?”

Byleth swallowed her forkful of boar. “What, ‘professor’? Why not?”

“You aren’t a teacher anymore, remember.” Claude smirked at her and twirled his fork like a teacher’s pointer.

“I mean, I can still teach.”

His eyes widened. “Really? During the _ war_?”

“Obviously.” She paused. Would she really teach during the war? “We can call it military instruction, if that makes you feel better.” Yes, she decided, she absolutely would continue teaching. She had to, if nothing else, see how much her students had progressed in her absence.

It was better than she expected.

Leonie had, to Byleth’s surprise, kept up her horse training. Within a couple more weeks of it, she would be able to pass her Bow Knight certification with ease. Five years knocked some sense into Lorenz, and he had somewhat lost his haughty attitude. Finally, he was no longer underestimating the commoners of the class, and he could go toe to toe with even Byleth with a strategic combination of magic and lances. Lysithea, studious as ever, only improved her already excellent magic ability, and she even managed to stifle her childish habits enough to lead a battalion with full confidence.

Ignatz had somehow made his amazing aim even better. Though his draw strength had always been lacking, he now made up for it with incredibly far-reaching and accurate shots. Marianne went from good to great in her riding skills, and as long as she kept up her lance practice, Byleth was confident the girl would be slinging spells atop a horse soon enough.

Claude, Claude! Where would she even begin? Last she’d seen him, he was a Sniper who barely knew how to mount a wyvern, and now he was what he called a Wyvern Master, shooting off arrows and throwing axes with ease. Far from Byleth’s expectations, Hilda _ had _ actually tried during the war, and she had apparently picked up flying in her spare time. In her spare time! Hilda, trying! She wasn’t quite good enough to swoop through the battlefield yet, but in due time she would be crashing through enemies with her axe from the skies.

Raphael was probably the biggest surprise, however. Eons ago, she’d entered him in the White Heron Cup, mostly as a joke; he’d won, rejuvenating the troops with his glorious dance form. Byleth assumed he would have dropped the practice during the war, in favor of his more natural fists. Instead, he honed in on his dancing even more. Apparently, it came in handy at his grandfather and sister’s hotel. Customers couldn’t get enough of his dances.

She felt herself being mesmerized as he danced in the training grounds, feeling not unlike a proud mother. On instinct, she dug into her cloak to find her notebook. 

To her surprise, it was still there, though the pages were wilted and yellow. Flipping to a fresh page, she wrote her observations. Her hand wobbled as she wrote, unprepared for the fine movements.

The action felt painful with its familiarity.

For a moment she sat with her chin on her hand, flipping through the old book. All her observations were perfectly intact. 

Byleth paused on a particular note. “Claude: clever but inaccurate.” She would have to revise it, she decided, in her new section. 

_ Claude: _

  * _Clever_
  * _Reliable_
  * _Tricky (trustworthy)_
  * _Works well with Hilda_

Unwittingly, she smiled at the page and the freshly dried ink. He’d grown up. They all had. There they were, the best and brightest of Fódlan, fighting for a new future.

She heard the sound of wind and narrowly avoided an arrow flying at her. Above her, Claude waved from his wyvern, one hand rubbing his neck in embarrassment. She shouted some meaningless curses and resumed her writing.

* * *

Judith was nothing if not impressive. She was older, yes, but her age seemed to only heighten her skills.

After the battle at Ailell, she insisted on joining their army.

Claude was hesitant, worried about Daphnel, but she waved it away with a retainer named Nardel. He sputtered at that.

Byleth liked Judith. She put both Claude and Lorenz in their places, easily, with only a sharp glare and the word “boy.” For Claude especially, to see his carefully crafted shell of charisma crack so quickly was a joy.

Back at the monastery, they spoke. Byleth quickly found a kindred spirit. She related stories of reigning in Claude, to which Judith would nod to or laugh at, and expressed gratitude for Judith’s help, to which she only shrugged, deeming it the “only course of action.” For her part, Judith recounted the many times she'd saved Claude from his foolish scheming, or pulled just the right strings to watch him soar above.

“What I found most impressive, though, is your ability to make Claude lose his cool so quickly.”

“I’ve known that boy for a long time. He’s a tough nut to crack.”

Byleth mused over her words, eyes scanning the blue sky beyond the chapel bridge. “But when he breaks, he shatters.”

She laughed, slapping the railing. “That’s one way to put it! … You speak like you’ve known him all your life.”

Byleth leaned over the edge of the bridge, looking out to the mountains and forests below. “Something like that. I learn a lot, being a teacher.”

“I’m glad someone like you is watching out for him. If you weren’t, he’d have lost his head a long time ago.” A soldier walked up to them, and Judith followed him after giving Byleth a friendly goodbye.

Byleth kept looking at the scenery of Garreg Mach. Flying through the sky, she saw Hilda and Claude, doing loops around each other. Marianne followed just below them, calling out advice only an animal lover would know.

What _ would _ have happened to Claude had she not been there? Time and time again, he’d said how pivotal Byleth was to his life, but _ how_? Just how important was she in his story, and how would the world unfold were he to stand alone?

* * *

To see her former students hurt. It hurt, a lot. She expected pain, of course, when she saw the three former house leaders standing at Gronder Field just as all those years ago. But the pain was beyond imagination.

An arrow whizzing past and digging into Ingrid’s pegasus. Her scream as her leg caught in the saddle, and she fell; the shrieks as she tried to cut herself loose before she and the pegasus landed with a harsh crunch. Raphael walked past the feathery heap in a hurry, one hand on his mouth as he hurried to dance for a dazed Ignatz.

Bernadetta’s final scream as Hilda’s axe dug into the girl’s shoulder, and her quiet cry to die anywhere, anywhere but here. After the exchange Hilda pulled her wyvern back and simply looked, with hollow eyes, at the grass, the sky, anywhere but Bernadetta.

Sylvain thrusting his lance with bloodlust in his eyes, a fierce and fearless passion foreign to Leonie; where had the casual philanderer gone? There was no enemy worse than one unafraid to die, and she cut him down quickly. Only she could hear his bitter laugh, his final words of tired acceptance. She stared for a moment, at his crumpled form, two arrows rammed between the pieces of his armor, a shard of her lance’s blade caught in his body.

Watching as Mercedes' hands, clasped in prayer, parted, as she collapsed from Marianne's lance cutting through her gut. Her pale blue eyes glazed over, looking to the sky, to her goddess.

The fire of battle in Felix’s eyes as he faced down Byleth, his sword even, his voice calm. This was what he always wanted, wasn’t it? A duel with the professor. Yet the splatter of blood across Byleth’s face was dissatisfying, and the sight of his hand still gripping his sword, even in death, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Byleth never knew them. Not well, not like she knew her Deer. They were, however, still students. Still children. They’d have had their whole lives ahead of them. She sat with Sylvain and Ingrid in the dining hall before, chittering about the girl’s monstrous appetite. Each time she’d walk through the dorms she made sure to say hi to Bernadetta’s door. Often she’d spar with Felix or pray with Mercedes.

She began to wonder what would have happened if she’d chosen another house. As her sword clanged against Dimtri’s lance, she wondered what would have happened if she had sided with him. Would she have been able to stop the raving man in front of her, guide him down a gentler path? Would she be crossing blades with Claude right now, cutting down Raphael?

The very thought of it made her ill. Seeing students die was painful enough, but _her_ students? There was no way.

And Edelgard, oh, Edelgard. She was just a _ girl_, in Byleth’s eyes, her armor too big, the title of Emperor crushing her youth. Aymr, her axe, seemed to dwarf her as she swung it at Byleth.

Yet still, she was the opponent. The enemy. With a well-aimed reason spell, Lysithea’s magic blasted through Edelgard’s armor. The emperor retreated.

Byleth looked at her army. They were shaken as well. She had retched at Ailell, after killing Ashe— poor, sweet Ashe who she’d tended to flowers and cooked meals with. But for most in the Golden Deer, he was another grunt to crush.

Gronder Field was different. Every one of the Golden Deer knew at least someone that day, and every one was forced to kill their classmates.

Ignatz was hit the hardest. He was especially close to Ingrid, and they apparently spoke frequently of his drawings. Byleth made sure to give him a gentle pat on the back and a free pass from their next skirmish. Leniency was difficult in war, but she did what she could.

The wind was blowing fiercely at Gronder Field that day, blowing her hair this way and that way. In the distance, she could see the Emperor’s forces regrouping as they moved in the distance. They could pursue them, technically, but the Deer were exhausted and in many cases hysterical over fighting their classmates. Edelgard’s death was not necessary yet.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, watching the army march away.

She sucked in a breath. Chasing them, like a mad boar, was Dimitri, followed by a paltry group of men.

Her muscles refused to move. She was frozen in place, watching in horror as Dimitri collapsed, as Imperial soldiers surrounded him, as they raised their spears, as--

_ Shnnk. _

She closed her eyes. War was an ugly thing. Though she’d grown up on the battlefield, the sight of people she knew dying was never something she could truly get used to.

Holding her hands tight together, she prayed to the Goddess. Perhaps _she_ could guide Dimitri to a better life.

* * *

Even with the war, her Golden Deer were odd as ever.

Lorenz had, much to her delight, quit his hunt for a spouse. For the time, anyway. The time of uncomfortable classmates was long gone. Replaced was a Lorenz able to see eye to eye with commoners, though he of course maintained his determination to put on only the best showing of his nobility. Byleth felt great pride as he explained that it was her, his teacher, who had taught him that a noble title meant nothing if one lacked the spine to back it up. She was, after all, "only" a commoner, changing the world.

Ignatz was digging through the weeds outside the grounds for a full five minutes before he noticed Byleth staring at him. After explaining he was hunting for plants to grind into pigments, she happily joined him in rooting through the dirt. Once his basket was filled to the brim with flowers and plants, he assured her he would paint a beautiful portrait of her for helping him, an offer she couldn't decline.

After a sudden apology and fierce insistence from Leonie, Byleth had a one-on-one duel with her. She crushed the girl, easily, but it seemed to knock enough sense into her that she stopped competing with Byleth for every little thing. A relief, to be certain.

She passed by Claude standing on the monastery grounds one night, his head in the clouds and eyes to the night sky. Together they spoke of gods and stars, goddesses and foreigners. He told her tall tales from Almyra, stories of earth-shattering deities, brutal wars over petty grudges. Their two kingdoms were shockingly alike, in the worst ways, and Claude pledged to change that. After all, they had come this far. Together, they could do anything, even fulfill the lofty ambitions held deep in his heart.

Manuela hummed as she walked around the infirmary, and she dressed Byleth's wound with the care and grace of someone who'd done it a million times before. It was a small cut, really, nothing to be worried about. It wasn't even her dominant arm, for goddess' sake, but Manuela insisted on treating it and Byleth had no choice but to yield.

Hilda walked in, wringing her hands. "Professor, hey. I wanted to talk about why I was-- you're hurt!"

Byleth glanced from her injury to Hilda. "I suppose I am." 

"You got that when you protected me, didn't you. Why?"

She had to laugh at that. "I'm your _teacher_, Hilda. That's what I do. And beyond that, we're friends. I'd put my neck on the line for you any day."

"Well," Hilda declared, crossing her arms, "I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would," she retorted, glaring at Hilda. It was the most obvious lie she'd heard yet. Hilda cared more for her allies than anyone.

"No, I wouldn't. Really! Don't expect something like that from me. I've seen the big expectations my family pushes on my brother, but nothing's expected from me."

"Fine. I don't expect anything of you. But I will say I believe in you. Because I do. I believe in all of you kids."

"Professor, are you ever going to stop calling us your 'kids'?" 

Byleth flushed at the question. "It's a habit."

* * *

Byleth scrambled to press the key into the door, twisting it quickly.

Behind the hulking beast, behind the wall of soldiers, she could see Edelgard. Standing pretty on her throne, Aymr in one hand and a hulking shield in the other, was the emperor, clad in fancy new armor. Still so small, still so young.

With a well-timed flurry of fireballs from Lorenz's battalion, the rest of the Alliance forces quickly piled into the throne room. The monster was cut down, the soldiers fell, and all the while Edelgard stood steady with her weapon, her eyes never leaving Byleth.

Soon, the throne room was empty, save for the girl on the throne. 

Marianne and Leonie rode away to block the reinforcements from the stairs, and Byleth instructed Lorenz and Hilda to head south to clean up the remaining soldiers.

She turned her head to the remaining students in the room and nodded. They knew, and she knew, that this was a confrontation not for them.

Claude flew up to the girl, his hands tight on Failnaught, though no arrow was notched. She glared at him with pale eyes.

"I understand that your ideals may be similar to mine. However, you do not truly understand what Fódlan has suffered-- you cannot be trusted to lead this world!"

There was a dark look in Claude's eyes as he strung his arrow. "Perhaps you're right. I don't claim to understand everything this land has been through. But I've seen enough. I'll finish the job for you."

He swooped upwards and fired, striking between the plates of her armor and piercing her stomach. She dropped Aymr with a scream.

"Teach, now!"

Byleth ran forward, and Edelgard lifted from her skirts a blade, raising it just in time to block Byleth's strike. Her iron sword shattered against the Sword of Seiros.

Edelgard leaned against the Sword with heavy breaths. "Professor."

The girl was so _small._ Empire or no, she was just a _girl_, a _child._ Edelgard noticed the hesitation in Byleth's eyes and spoke, with bleak patience in her eyes.

"You must kill me. My grave sits between you and your goal."

Byleth drew the Sword of the Creator.

"If anyone... is to kill me, I'm glad it's you."

She held the blade above her head.

"I always wanted to walk with you..."

She brought the sword down.

* * *

Rhea was in a terrible state. 

With her decadence removed, years of confinement wearing down her, she looked like nothing more than a sad and desperate shell. 

When they returned to the monastery, she bore her elegant dress and delicate crown once more, though there was a hollowness to her eyes. Never again would Byleth be able to look at her with reverence. Rhea was only one woman, and a liar at that.

Byleth spent the remainder of the day in her room. Mostly, she thought, about Rhea, about Nemesis, about herself.

There was a knock at her door. Hilda strode in with a thin smile.

"Hey, Professor." 

"What do you need, Hilda?" Byleth stood from her desk to face her.

"I'll just get to the point. We found Rhea." Byleth quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, you said you'd only follow Claude until we found Rhea. So I was wondering if you'd still stay with us, or if you'd... I don't know, run off and take another five-year nap." 

The girl was genuinely worried. Her pink eyes were downcast, and she twirled a finger nervously through her hair while the other hand drummed on her thigh.

Byleth pat Hilda's head.

She blinked a few moments, making a puzzled expression. "Professor, _what_-?"

"There's no worry, Hilda. I know what I said, but I didn't really mean it. I'd follow you kids to the end of the world if it meant keeping you safe. I was just... worried about Rhea."

"Oh, I get that." Hilda nodded, clearly satisfied. 

"I still need answers," she admitted, staring down at her hands, "about who I am, and who Nemesis was. Rhea's been keeping too many secrets." She met Hilda's eyes and laughed. "It's two birds with one stone, really. We defeat those who slither, and I protect my kids!"

Hilda stared in awe. "I've never heard you laugh so... fully, Professor." She smiled, dimples appearing at her cheeks. "I'm glad."

Byleth huffed. "It's you kids. I was never good with emotions before I taught here."

"I know! You were sooo scary at the beginning of the year. I swear, Marianne hid behind me every time you walked past!"

She pressed a hand to her chest in indignation. "Was I really that frightful?"

"Yes, you were," Hilda insisted, "don't you know how scary your regular face is, Professor?"

With a hand on her cheek, she sighed. "Is it that bad?"

"N-no, I mean, it's not a bad thing." Hilda backtracked quickly. "Like, you're... really good at scaring the enemies with no effort. _Really_ good."

They continued to talk through the day. Their topics varied, from self-sacrifice, to the color of the sky, from responsibilities and expectations to good-natured laughs. Hilda moved from Byleth's desk chair, to painting her nails on Byleth's bed, to sitting on Byleth's desk like an annoying cat, occasionally peeking at the documents Byleth paged through. 

"Hilda, dear." At last, Byleth looked up from the work she had been trying to complete for the past several hours. She had to applaud Hilda's determination to maintain her pout as Byleth flipped paper after paper in her face. "Is there something else you needed?"

"I'm so glad you asked! Can I sit out the next--"

"No."

* * *

Byleth watched Claude from the corner of her eye as she slashed at Nemesis. They rehearsed this. They rehearsed this. They'd already defeated the Ten Elites, sweeped the map clean of those who slither in the dark, and purged the land of the cursed swamp. Just one more and it would be done.

She tried to keep her breathing even as she crossed blades with the ancient ruffian. An arrow flew past her as she ducked to the left.

“You are a foolish child.” The man’s voice was broken and rotted sounding.

“Tough talk from a guy who’s lived too long." Claude sneered as he strung another arrow. "Allow me to fix that!” 

Nemesis whipped his sword forward, narrowly missing her.

As he swung his sword, he laughed. “You are all pathetic weaklings. You lack the courage to challenge me in lone combat.”

Byleth bit back a response. She didn't dare provoke him further. From the corner of her eye she saw Claude, shouting something, and for a moment their eyes met.

_ Trust me. _

She had to fight the laugh bubbling in her chest as Claude began a dramatic speech. It was cheesy, so cheesy, what he was saying. So damn cheesy. The power of friendship, scaling the “walls between us.” Byleth heard an arrow being fired, and Claude running forward. As she dodged, Claude took her place. Nemesis’ sword swung against Failnaught, sliding down the bony bow and sending Claude flying backwards. 

She gritted her teeth as she heard Claude yell in pain. 

Without thinking, she screamed. “Get away from my students, you crusty bastard!”

Just before she sliced, an arrow fell from the sky, driving straight through Nemesis’ arm. With one slash, she cut Nemesis’ chest and shattered the blade in his hand.

At last. At _ last. _

Byleth breaths were ragged. The fight was long and hard, but it was over, it was _ over._ The bastard was on the ground, dead. His army was vaporizing.

Claude's trick- that same damn trick from ages ago, the one he’d tried at the Golden Deer tournament- it worked. It worked, and the war was won, and it was over. It was all over.

She turned and lifted Claude to his feet.

* * *

A new dawn.

Byleth sat, surrounded by her students.

Yes, her students. Though they were no longer pupils of Garreg Mach, they would always be her students. They dined heartily, on the greatest feast they could conjure.

Most would soon be returning to their homes. They had to cherish the time they had together while it lasted.

Claude informed her she would be the one to unify Fódlan, a prospect that absolutely terrified her. Byleth, the non-politician, non-Seiros believer, lead a country headed by a church? The idea was just crazy enough for her to accept. Besides, Claude had other places to be, other countries to unify. He promised he would return in due time, a promise she knew she could hold him to.

Ignatz explained he would make a case for his artwork to his parents. She assured him they’d allow him to drop knighthood in favor of art, and he glowed from her words. 

Leonie bragged to Byleth that she’d managed to contact Jeralt’s old mercenary group; she convinced them to let her join, and from there her path was decided. Byleth joked that Leonie would become the second Blade Breaker, a future Leonie seemed eager to make true.

Hilda planned to abandon her noble title and take up artisan work. Marianne and Raphael both encouraged her greatly, and upon the proposal of a school for it, Byleth nodded firmly in approval. The girl always did have a knack for teaching others. When she was actually trying, of course.

Lorenz announced that as soon as he led House Gloucester, he would institute just and equal laws for commoners and nobles alike. Claude clapped louder than anyone else.

Few of her students, she realized, were going to stick around, or even stay as knights. Raphael planned to continue his knighthood, but locally— he was going back home to his grandfather’s hotel. He swore to send Byleth a picture of Maya, and in return Byleth promised to visit eventually. 

When asked of her plans for the future, Lysithea gave Byleth a sad sort of smile. Byleth assured her they would find a cure. Lysithea would be able to live her life to the fullest, with all her years, or Byleth wasn’t a teacher.

Marianne would be returning to Duke Edmund with a brighter smile than before. With the burden of her Crest lifted, Marianne had changed, and Byleth knew wherever she went, she would bring great refinement. She mumbled something about learning the art of diplomacy, a dream Lorenz quickly supported and promised to aid her with.

Wherever her students went, Byleth had confidence they would find success.

As for herself, well. She would become the Queen of the newly united Fódlan. After that, she hadn't the slightest idea.

...

...

...

Byleth, Ruler of Dawn

After the war, Claude left for Alymra, entrusting the future of Fódlan in Byleth's capable hands. She ascended the throne with the goal of reforming the Church of Seiros while shaping the United Kingdom of Fódlan into a land without judgement or fear. Eventually, she rebuilt Garreg Mach, turning it into a prosperous military academy once more. With the efforts of her former students, the monastery was expanded into an educational center for those of all ages and all subjects. The headmaster could always be found wandering its halls, giving guidance or returning lost items. After decades of teaching, Byleth retired into obscurity. Rumors abounded that the youth who took her place was secretly her child, though the other parent was never known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep as close to base canon as possible for relatability but I just had to throw in dancer Raphael from my own playthrough. He's so great. Please make Raph your dancer.

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I beat Three Houses while mumbling "my kids" to myself the entire time. This was inevitable.


End file.
